


The Stars Eternal

by Samayla



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 03:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samayla/pseuds/Samayla
Summary: We had lain awake until well after midnight tonight, staring at the starry sky Rhys conjured to fill our bedroom ceiling, a perfect replica of the one hiding behind the clouds outside. I’d pointed out the constellations I knew, and Rhys had made those stars glow brighter, enchanted by their stories, even if he didn’t always understand how mortals could see the images I described.When he finally dozed off to the story of the Seven Sisters, I had dared hope for a peaceful night, a few hours’ uninterrupted rest to begin easing those dark circles from under his eyes.But all I’d given him was something else for the nightmares to take away.





	The Stars Eternal

**Author's Note:**

> Also on tumblr @ http://samayla.tumblr.com/post/167907429039/fic-the-stars-eternal

The darkness of my cell was crushing me…

Rhys was laying beside me in the bed. I couldn’t see him - it was far too dark - but I could hear his breathing, harsh and rapid like my own.

That was wrong. There was no bed in my cell. Rhys never slept at my side there. We weren’t Under the Mountain. I was dreaming, and I needed to wake up.

We were free.

We were free, and if I could just wake up, I could prove it. The darkness would be gone, and Rhys would hold me, and everything would be fine.

I ordered myself to wake, shook my head, even pinched myself, but I could not wake. I just wanted the darkness gone. I wanted Rhys.

Rhys.

Thunder rolled and he whimpered beside me, and I realized it was _him_. He was the one who was trapped. I was awake, and it was his nightmare seeping out, poisoning the air around us.

“Rhys?” I breathed, stroking his cheek to coax him into waking. He jerked upright with a cry, but the darkness didn’t change. It seeped into my lungs in place of air, coated my body and clung like oil, viscous and foul. It was devouring me, inside and out. “Rhys!” I grabbed him and wrapped myself around him to shield him from the hungry darkness as much as I could.

“Feyre?”

“It’s me, love,” I panted. “I’m here.”

“F-feyre?”

My heart broke at the crack in his voice. “I’m here,” I repeated, and I realized I was crying too. “You need to let the darkness go, love. Let it go.”

Rhys clung to me and let out a sob. The darkness became gentler, less malignant. We both gasped great lungfuls of the damp night air, but it became no easier to see.

“The-the stars are gone,” Rhys gasped into my hair. “I can’t-can’t see them.” He was hyperventilating. He began thrashing in my arms, twisting this way and that in his futile search for starlight. His claws pricked my bare back as he clung to me like a lifeline.

A thick blanket of cloud had settled over Velaris, bringing with it eight days of pouring rain and eight nights of pitch-black skies. Rhys hadn’t been out to fly since the storm moved in — none of the Illyrians had — but it had hit Rhys the hardest. The flightless days and starless nights were too like the ones he’d endured Under the Mountain, and his nightmares had been getting worse all week.

We had lain awake until well after midnight tonight, staring at the starry sky Rhys conjured to fill our bedroom ceiling, a perfect replica of the one hiding behind the clouds outside. I’d pointed out the constellations I knew, and Rhys had made those stars glow brighter, enchanted by their stories, even if he didn’t always understand how mortals could see the images I described.

When he finally dozed off to the story of the Seven Sisters, I had dared hope for a peaceful night, a few hours’ uninterrupted rest to begin easing those dark circles from under his eyes.

But all I’d given him was something else for the nightmares to take away.

“The stars,” he gasped again, choking back another sob. “The Bears, the Swan…”

“They’re still there,” I soothed, pressing my hand against his chest, over his heart. “They’re in there, love. Just call them out. I’ll tell you the stories again. They’re always there.”

“They’re gone, Feyre! They’re gone! She took them… L-locked them away from me… They’re all gone! I-I think she killed them… All dead!”

Rhys was too far gone in his panic to summon stars, no matter how I tried to reassure him. He tore himself from my arms and stumbled toward the window, guided by the rain-soaked breeze.

I called out for him, panicking now. Lightning flashed, momentarily lighting up the room, and I could see he had his wings out. He was going out into the storm. “Rhys,” I called over the crash of thunder. “Stop, love!” I lurched sideways out of the bed, my legs tangled in the sweaty sheets. “Stop!”

He wasn’t listening. He needed to find the stars. I gave up on the sheet momentarily and flung out a hand. I’d never conjured stars before, but I had Helion’s light flowing through my veins. If there was ever a time to glow for Rhys, this was it.

It took finer control than I’d ever exercised before. A bright ball of light flared just over Rhys’ left shoulder, too bright, too big, and for a moment I feared it would burn him. But it stopped him. He threw up an arm against the blinding light and crashed to his knees, tearing the curtain from its rod along the way.

I freed my legs from the sheets at last and crawled to Rhys’ side, pressing the bright orb into a smaller point as I went.

“It’s alright, love,” I murmured, crouching beside him. Rhys gripped my arm but didn’t tear his eyes away from the glowing spark hanging before him. “The stars are still there. No one can take them away from you. They’re always there.”

“Still there,” he echoed, sounding unsure. Sounding lost.

I let the first star grow a bit again. “The Pole Star,” I said. “A friend to the lost.”

Rhys looked as though he’d like to touch it, reassure himself it was real, but he didn’t dare. “Lost.” A broken whisper, and my heart broke again.

I conjured more, with better results this time: six more to complete the constellation. They were still a little too bright, a little too big, but better.

“The Lesser Bear,” Rhys murmured, and in its light, I could see tears of relief on his pale face.

“That’s right, love.”

“The — the others?”

“They’re here too,” I answered at once. I called up more of Helion’s light to form the Great Bear. This one was better yet. The stars were the right size, not too bright, not too dim.

We sat together on the floor, and I conjured more constellations, though the effort exhausted me. The Lyre, the Hunter, the Swan, the Seven Sisters. I recreated all the constellations I knew, and when I ran out, I made up new ones, naming them as I went. The Rabbit, the Wolf, the Fox, the Rose. The Three Brothers, the Grey Lady, the Dreamer.

I had neither the skill nor the knowledge of the sky to reproduce the heavens with Rhys’ faithfulness, but I had the soul of an artist, and I made do. My constellations went far beyond the simple collections of stars Rhys had highlighted for me earlier. I filled my constellations with light, soft and gentle and nuanced, as in one of my paintings, until even Rhys could see the images unaided.

As Rhys calmed and I grew more confident, the pictures came to life. The Three Brothers joined the Hunter in tracking the Great Bear across the sky. The Dreamer danced with the Seven Sisters to the enchanting melody of the Lyre. The Grey Lady dared the grieving Swan to return to the skies…

-

I woke slowly to a damp breeze playing across my face.

I shifted in the grey light of the overcast morning, and strong arms tightened around me.

“Rhys?”

“I’m here, darling. How are you feeling?”

“What happened?” I asked. He was leaning up against the window frame with me in his arms and the torn curtain wrapped around us both.

He kissed the tip of my ear, then the side of my neck. “I think you overdid it.”

My cheeks heated. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep on him. I was supposed to be helping, like he always helped me. He’d needed me, and I’d let him down. If I couldn’t even stay awake for him when he needed me most —

 _None of that now, darling,_ he scolded, tweaking my nose.

“But —”

“Look.” And he tilted my chin up. He kissed the corner of my mouth, then leaned back so I could see the ceiling, where every inch was alive with pale, shifting constellations, far more than what I remembered conjuring before I passed out.

“They’re still there,” I breathed.

I could feel the breath of his smile in my ear as he kissed it again. “They stayed all night.”

“There are so many…” A whole world seemed to have sprung up to accommodate my creations while I slept.

He leaned down to kiss my forehead, and something warm and tender slid down the bond to wrap around my soul.

_Starlight seeping from my heart as I slept, twining around Rhys to keep the darkness at bay so he could sleep in safety, and then rising to fill the room with dancing images to greet him when he woke._

I blinked and the vision was gone, and Rhys was leaning down to kiss my forehead as he carried me back to bed. “I love you,” he murmured.

I leaned up to return the kiss properly, twining my soul around his in return. _I love you, too._


End file.
